


everything you don't say

by palateens



Series: highways and bi-ways [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Dysphoria, Coming Out, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Other, Trans Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 02:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14510502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: “I’m okay,” she lies, hoping that the words stick in her mind long enough to convince herself.





	everything you don't say

1993

Suzanne loves Richard because he’s soft. It’s in everything he does. He’s determined and strong, sure. But he’s got the world’s biggest heart. When he said he was thinking of becoming a coach, Suzanne was skeptical. A high school football coach makes enough, sure. It’s not like she ever planned on staying at home, even if they didn’t need the extra income. But Suzanne wasn’t sure if Richard really wanted to be a coach, or if he was just settling since he had no chance in hell of getting drafted to the NFL.

“It’s ok Suzie,” Richard says one afternoon when she asks if he’s sure. “I want to be a coach.”

Suzanne bites her lip. “Are you positive? Hanging around teenagers all day, really? Is that what you want to do?”

He chuckles, his eyes glint in the sunlight creeping through the trees in their new backyard. It’s a rental, but they’re newly married and this is more space than they’ve ever had. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, kissing Suzanne on the forehead.

“I like teaching, sweetpea,” he says. “This is my dream, I promise.”

Suzanne shakes her head, getting up from their hammock. She picks up the football not too far from them as she walks across the yard.

“Alright, big guy,” she says with a smirk. “If you can stop me from getting into that house with this ball, you can coach full time.”

Richard laughs, standing up too. “I said I want to coach, not play. Those who can’t teach remember?”

“Bullshit,” she says with a smirk. “C’mon, you want a job at the nice school in town? Show me what you’ve got.”

He smirks at Suzanne like he wants to let her down easy. Only problem is Richard’s let himself go since the end of last season, since he quit football. It’s mid July and Suzanne’s dodging his moves with the finesse of someone who spends too much time conditioning with nowhere else to put it to good use.

She runs circles around him until he’s sweaty. She starts to make a run for the porch door when she missteps over some mud. Suzanne braces for the fall, but Richard still manages to fall on her afterward.

“Gotcha,” he says triumphantly.

Suzanne rolls her eyes as she turns over to glare at him. “Cheater. The mud got me and you know it.”

Richard shrugs. Suzanne shoves his shoulder for good measure. He’s being a cocky ass and he knows better. He smirks, leaning down to kiss her gently.

“That was some good hustle out there,” he says.

Suzanne grins. “Thanks, coach. Think you could use me on your first string?”

He laughs. “You know I would if I could. You’re bolder than half the guys on my team. A little too bold, if I’m being honest.”

“It’s not my fault they can’t handle their booze,” Suzanne argues.

“You didn’t have to show the freshmen how to shotgun beers.”

“They were wasting perfectly good beer on those sorry excuses.”

Richard laughs harder, kissing her again. “That’s what I love about you, Suzie. You’re something else.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Good, I mean it,” he says.

He helps her get up off the cold wet grass. Suzanne thinks that’s the end of that but then Richard says—  

“You know I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I don’t know how I got so lucky to find a girl as tough as you but I’m thankful I did.”

Richard kisses her forehead before pulling her inside, saying they should probably get cleaned up before his Mama shows up and has a conniption about how he’s treating his new bride. Suzanne is tense the entire time they change clothes. She doesn’t know why, but she hates when people talk about her like that. Like it’s supposed to be a compliment that she’s different, that she’s not like other girls or some shit like that.

It makes her body go cold when someone calls her a girl. She doesn’t understand it. She has no good reason, other than it sounds wrong and she hates it. At one point, she thought that maybe it’s because it’s derogatory and she’s waiting to be treated like a woman.

But she’s not getting any younger and she feels no closer to being a woman than she did at fourteen. She wonders if this is what all women feel like, trapped in their bodies where no one can see who they really are. She’s twenty two and can’t imagine anyone wanting breasts. Richard says he likes them just fine. It isn’t reassuring. It feels more like a formality between them than anything.

He stops Suzanne as she lingers in bathroom, staring angrily at her bra. She wishes she could go without the damn things. She wishes people would stop calling her a girl or woman or really anything that isn’t person. She doesn’t like being a woman. She didn’t ask for any of this.

Richard nudges her shoulder gently. “You alright, sweetpea?”

Suzanne looks at his soft eyes—how they’re yearning to jump and fix her life at the first sight of trouble.  She shakes her head. She has no idea what he could possibly do for her at a time like this. It’s just one of those days. There’s nothing to be done about it.

 

_/.\\_

2001

Eric Richard Bittle, Dicky for short, is six years old. He’s every bit as gentle and attentive as his daddy with a vigour that’s all Suzanne. Sometimes his voice is too big, too loud really, for his tiny body. But he’ll grow into it. Dicky runs around through the backyard sprinklers at sunset. He shrieks happily as he splashes himself with water. Suzanne laughs joyfully. There’s nothing like seeing her baby smile.

Richard’s sitting next to her at the patio table. They’re enjoying some after dinner wine that Judy got them as a Christmas gift. Suzanne prefers something with a little hops in it, but she can appreciate free booze from her sister when the opportunity arises.

“Mama look at me!” Dicky shouts from the yard. “I’m flying!”

Suzanne watches him hop over the sprinklers.

“Look at you, Mr. Bittle!” she calls out to him. “Be careful alright? Flying boys can get hurt too.”

“Okay,” he shouts.

Richard chuckles. “He’s got too much energy.”

“It’s sweet,” Suzanne says. “He’s got big ideas and he wants to make them happen.”

“I’m sure with a mama like you, he won’t know how to take no for an answer,” he says before kissing her cheek.

Suzanne nods, smiling tightly. She takes a long sip of her drink. She thought she’d be used to being called a mother by this point. Dicky’s the only person who can call her that without making her skin crawl.

“You know…” Richard says softly. “He’s got a big personality, but he’s really caring.”

“I know,” she says.

“That’s the makings of a good big brother.”

Suzanne takes another sip of wine. “Oh?” she says coyly.

Richard, of course, knows her better at this point. He knows when she’s playing dumb that he’ll have to pry an answer out of her cold dead hands. It’s nothing personal, and she feels bad when he gets frustrated. But Suzanne’s reached a point in her life when she knows better than to upset someone with things they don’t understand or don’t want to hear.

“Do you ever think of that? Having more kids at some point.”

“Sure,” she says, averting her eyes.

“Could we? I’m not saying tomorrow—”

“Well that would be pretty demanding if you did, Mr. Bittle,” she teases.

He huffs. She gathers enough courage to sneak a look at his tired and hesitant smile.

“Do you want more kids, Suzie?” he says quietly.

Yes, she thinks. She would love nothing more than to fill this house with kids—all sorts of brothers and sisters for Dicky. But...but, she can’t give him that. It was hard enough being pregnant the first time.

She’s happy she did it. Happy to know the experience of carrying her own baby. But the longer she was pregnant, the more she felt distant from her own body. The more she felt like it was well and fine to have the parts she does, but they shouldn’t control her life as much as they do. She can’t do it again. It’s not for her, and she isn’t sure how much she’d hate herself for going through with it.

But she can’t say that to her own husband. She can’t justify not wanting to be pregnant if she wants more kids and is healthy. And what would their parents say? They’d ask what’s wrong, poking and prodding until Suzanne’s backed into a corner. She can’t explain why she feels the way she does, and she knows Richard won’t get it.

So she looks at him sternly, and lies.

“No,” she says. “One’s more than enough.”

Richard nods, kissing her like he understands. She tries not to hate herself as she watches her husband’s heart break right in front of her.     

 

_/.\\_

2005

 

Suzanne loves her sister. Judy’s by far her best friend. Through thick and thin they’ve stuck together over the years. Judy came out to her when Dicky was two years old. It was a hushed sort of conversation where Judy stumbled through words and Suzanne interrupted just to hug her tighter. Suzanne kept apologizing because she didn’t know the right words to say. Being gay was still not something people in their town talked about in the late 90s. But she kept saying “you’re my sister and I love you.” Somehow, that was enough.

Judy didn’t come out again to anyone in the family until a few months back. Their great grandmother finally passed so Judy started to tell a few members of the family here and there. It was a slow process. Judy herself admitted to Suzanne that she’s not sure she can come out to their parents.

“It’s okay,” Suzanne keeps reminding her. “You don’t have to justify yourself to anyone, even our parents.”

Part of Suzanne wants to tell Judy “I know your daddy is going to be more accepting than my birth father ever would be.” But she knows that isn’t helpful. They’re half sisters, but sisters all the same.

They call each other twice a week. Sometimes more if there’s a lot of gossip in town or Judy’s found herself a new girlfriend in Atlanta. There’s nothing they can’t talk about. So when Suzanne gets to thinking about herself, who she is and why she is that way, she thinks Judy ought to be looped in.

“How did you know you were gay?” Suzanne asks one day when she’s visiting Judy in Atlanta.

Judy scrunches her nose, scrutinizing Suzanne like she’s grown a second head. “You want to hear the straight friendly version or the real version?”

Suzanne rolls her eyes. “Tell me the real version.”

“My college boyfriend rented lesbian porn from the video store,” she says. “He thought it would be really hot to watch girls do each other while he did me.”

Judy sighs, shrugging. “Too bad for him, I realized those girls were turning me on more than he ever had.”

“Oh,” Suzanne says quietly. That’s it? she thinks, despondent.

“Oh? Were you expecting some PG story about how I always knew?”

“Kinda? Maybe,” Suzanne admits.

“Well I didn’t,” Judy says. “Because no one talks about it back home.”

Suzanne had never thought of that. “That makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Judy says, clearing her throat awkwardly.

“So you never felt...different?” Suzanne says. “Like you just didn’t fit in?”

Judy gives her an indulgent smirk. “Sis, I grew up half-Black with a divorced mom and white sister in rural ass Georgia. Feeling different was as normal as breathing.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Nope, maybe you should spell it out,” Judy says sternly.

Suzanne shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She hates Judy’s dining room table because she never bothers to buy seat cushions. The wood is stiff, unforgiving, and Suzanne swears it digs into her legs to spite her. She isn’t big, but she has thick thighs. It’s one of the few things she likes about her body.

“I don’t know,” Suzanne says. “Did you ever feel like people talked about things, about love and shit like their version was normal? But it doesn’t feel that way?”

“Yes,” Judy says, crossing her arms and nodding slowly.   

“Or like...you ever hear someone talking about their white picket fences, three kids, and fancy jewelry and think ‘that’s nice...for _them._ ’”

“Do you feel like you don’t...want Richard?”

“No, of course not,” Suzanne says immediately. “He’s it for me. He’s not the problem.”

Suzanne wrings her hands. She feels like she needs to keep talking before she loses her nerve. “Like...they talk about all these things they do for their husbands and how they want to stay fit and small for them and it...scares me. They want to do these things that keep them looking sixteen and I don’t get it. I...I hated being sixteen so much.”

“Why? You were pretty and popular.”

“I hated how I looked,” her voice sounds frantic, panicked. She’s never admitted this to anyone out loud before. “My boobs had just come in and I hadn’t gained any weight anywhere else. I was tits on a stick for a year.”  

Judy looks at her carefully, leaning forward. Suzanne squirms in her seat. She hates when Judy stares so deeply into her eyes. Suzanne is a closed book to everyone except for Judy. But even then, this problem she has...it’s something she can’t even think about sometimes.

“Suzie, what do you want to change about your life?”

She wants to say “everything.” She wishes she wasn’t stuck in a town less than fifty miles from where she grew up. She hates that she has to dress like all the other women in her offices to avoid stares and suspicious murmurs. She hates that it feels like her life is over and she’s only thirty four. She can’t see her life going forward. It’s always been hard to parse out what she’s supposed to be doing with what she wants. She likes being an accountant. It’s good money.

She loves her family. They’re the best part of her life. There’s just...so much swirling around her head about what she can’t do and how she can’t act.

“I guess I want to know if it’s normal to think you aren’t cut out to be straight,” Suzanne says instead.

Judy snorts, scooting her chair closer and pulling Suzanne in for a hug. “It’s not abnormal, but I can’t tell you for sure if it’s something straight people think about.”

Suzanne hugs her tighter. She swallows thickly. “So how do I find out for sure?”

“I’d probably say do some research, talk to some other people like me,” Judy says. “But do you ever have a voice in you saying ‘this isn’t right’ or ‘this isn’t me.’”

“Yea,” she admits.

“Learn to listen to it,”Judy says. “Eventually, it’ll give you some answers.”

Suzanne cries in her sister’s arms. She would give anything to understand why she can’t just be happy.

She drives home later that afternoon, not getting in until well past Dicky’s bedtime. Richard knew she’d be out today. He’s pretty understanding when Suzanne says she needs a day to visit Judy.

When she gets into the house, she can smell leftovers that are warm and heavenly. She walks into the kitchen. Her breath catches when she sees Richard at the kitchen table, his glasses slid down his nose as he reads the paper. She clutches her chest a little at how good he looks wearing that lilac polo she bought him. He always looks good.

Suzanne sneaks up on him, kissing the back of his head. Richard’s moustache twitches as he puts the sports section down. He leans his head straight back. He reaches up a little to kiss her chin. Suzanne laughs.

“Hey, sweetpea,” Richard says. “How was your day?”

She kisses his forehead. “It was good.”

Richard nods, getting up to fix her a plate of dinner. It makes her heart swoon whenever he cooks for the family. She’ll say it until she’s black and blue—there’s a lot of things she doesn’t like about her life but Richard isn’t one of them. He’s the best partner anyone could ever ask for. He only gets more loving and attentive with every passing day.

“What’d you and Judy talk about?” he says when his back is turned to her.   

Suzanne swallows a thick lump in her throat. She doesn’t have a good answer for him. She can’t say “I don’t think I’m straight” because she doesn’t know what she is. She would never want to leave him, so what’s the point in saying anything?

“Nothing,” Suzanne says.

He gives her an odd look when he comes back with her food. Like he doesn’t buy it, but isn’t sure if it’s worth talking about more.

“If you’re sure,” he says in resignation.

He takes up his paper again, squeezing her knee gently underneath the table. Suzanne ends up falling asleep with her head in his lap as they watch TV in the den. It’s Sports Center, and normally she’d be swearing up and down at the lame brained hockey commentators. But she’s tired. Tired of wondering what’s right and wrong about everything she does. Tired of feeling like an imposter in her own life.

“Are you sure there’s nothing you want to talk about?” Richard says softly when she wakes up a few hours later.

Suzanne swallows thickly. She wants to have something to tell him. She wishes there was some perfect way to articulate “I’m wrong, and I want to feel right.” There’s no simple answers for her, and no easy way out except to lie.

“No,” she whispers.

 

_/.\\_

2008

 

A man gets pregnant, and the whole world breaks. Magazines runs stories about it. Talk show hosts parade him around like a sideshow. The women in Suzanne’s town won’t shut up about it.

“She’s only doing this for attention,” is the favorite line among the PTA moms and the women at work.

They talk about this man like he’s an affront to their existence. The more attention he gets, the more Suzanne pulls back from everyone who mentions him. Her friends don’t see her for a few weeks. Judy gives her a sympathetic look while they’re at dinner with their parents and their mom mentions him. Judy gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze at the end of dinner as they head out of the restaurant.

Suzanne doesn’t know why, but it helps a lot.

She thinks the news is finally starting to die down. People bring him up less and less. Suzanne thanks her lucky stars.

But then the poor guy gives birth and the media circus starts all over again. Suzanne calls in sick the day after the announcement goes viral. She stays in bed, not moving when Richard gets up to shower. She doesn’t budge when he says she better get up.

“I called in sick,” she admits.

“Are you ok?” Richard asks worriedly.

She opens her mouth to brush him off, but immediately closes it. She never wanted to be like this. A person who lies to their husband because it’s more convenient. She feels something slip down her cheek, and she shakes her head.

“No,” Suzanne says.

Richard sits down next to her. He feels her forehead. She stares listlessly at the nightstand in front of her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

Suzanne shrugs. “It’s...I don’t know. Work’s too much right now. I think I need a quick breather.”

“Why don’t we get some breakfast? See how you’re feeling after that?”

Reluctantly, she agrees. They call Dicky in sick for school. Richard drives them to pancake house for breakfast. It’s a nice outing. Dicky doesn’t seem to be too worried about missing class. He and Richard talk about his long program and the feedback his coach has been giving him.

It’s rare that they get moments out as a family.

“I heard that tranny had her bastard,” someone at the table behind them says.

Suzanne’s blood runs cold. She tries to ignore the conversation behind her, but they just keep talking. Her knuckles go white as she stabs her fork in her food.

“Mama? Are you alright?” Dicky asks.

Suzanne takes a deep breath, nodding for his sake. Dicky doesn’t buy it, and clearly Richard doesn’t either. Their breakfast goes from chatty and amicable to tense and awkward. Suzanne feels horrible for ruining it for her boys.

In the parking lot, Richard wraps his arm around her waist.

“What was that about?” he asks, more concerned than upset.

If this were any other day, she thinks she’d brush it off eloquently. Maybe makeup some story about something she read the other day, or say something simple like “people should mind their own business.”

“What they said in there was disgusting,” she rasps. “That wasn’t right. He’s a man. Men can have babies.”

Richard kisses her temple like he always does when he’s at a loss for words. She doesn’t blame him. She knows how crazy she sounds. They don’t talk on the car ride home. Dicky asks if they can bake something together, the three of them.

Suzanne can’t remember the last time they did that, so she says yes. It’s a mess, and they get more flour on each other than in the bowl, but it untwists some of the knots in Suzanne’s stomach.

She still has to go to work the next day. The world is still cruel and judgemental. There’s so much about her life that she still hates. But men can have babies.

It’s a thought that puts her mind at ease as she falls asleep that night. A thought that makes her smile as Richard kisses her good night. It’s like a mantra, a truth that she needs to keep on remembering. Men can have babies, and that’s beautiful.

 

_/.\\_

2009

 

Men can have babies, Suzanne knows this much. There’s a lot more that they can do. They can wear makeup. They can buy dresses and heels if they feel like it. They can kiss other men and hold their hands. They can do a lot of things, she’s learned.

Judy drags her and Richard to Pride that October while Dicky’s with his grandparents for the weekend. Richard knows Judy’s gay. He treats her about as good as he treats any of his brothers—a little rough and brash but with lots of understanding. He fucking listens when Judy tells him to stop while he’s ahead.

Somehow, Judy convinces them to let her pick their outfits. Suzanne doesn’t know how to feel about it. But when Judy gives her an undershirt that make her breasts look non-existent and a tank top to show off her arms, she has to hold back some tears. Richard wrinkles his nose as Judy puts glitter all over his face.    

But he doesn’t complain about the rainbow shirt she makes him put on. He takes one look at it before accepting easily.

Pride is loud, crowded, and boisterous. It’s not the regular sort of parade Suzanne had been expecting. It’s like a communal bonding where everyone has open arms for each other. It’s like a religious experience, washing over her soul and cleansing it.

Judy hollars as a procession of lesbians on motorcycles pass by.

“Those are my kind of ladies,” she says, jabbing Richard.

“Every lady is your kind of lady,” he says.

“Says who?”

“That mousy librarian at Dicky’s school,” Richard says.

“No, that’s not fair,” Judy says, scowling up at him. “She looks like she can get freaky.”

Suzanne rubs her temple. “I’m not listening to my husband and baby sister have this conversation.”

Of course saying so means Richard and Judy keep talking about Judy’s sex life. Until Judy decides to put Richard on the spot.

“Ok, what’s your type of man?”

Suzanne keeps her mouth shut. But she’d rather her straight husband not cause a scene at a Pride festival.

“Short and feisty,” Richard says. “Sweet enough to let me love him but knows how to pin me down.”

Suzanne feels her stomach drop. Her cheeks go red.

“Wow, Richy,” Judy says. “I didn’t know you swung that way.”

Richard shrugs, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I swing a lot of ways. I am ambidextrous.”

Suzanne hears herself laughing. Something slips down her cheek.

Richard nudges her. “What?”

Out of all the things Suzanne’s learned about men lately, the most important is that some men have cunts and tits.

Suzanne shakes her head. “Thank you for saying that. I feel honored that you trust us.”

Which is true. Because she is happy her husband just came out to her, and she’s happy that he doesn’t have to pretend to be something that he’s not. And maybe she’s crying like an idiot as he kisses her forehead because Richard could love a man. Richard can love all kinds of people. That’s just like him to have such a big heart.

“Are you alright?” he whispers into her ear.

“I’m okay,” she lies, hoping that the words stick in her mind long enough to convince herself.

 

_/.\\_

2011

 

Richard gets offered a job in Madison. It’s closer to his family and it’s close enough to Atlanta that Suzanne can visit Judy whenever she wants. They wait until Dicky finishes his freshman year of high school. It’s an easier conversation to have with him than they’d anticipated.

Dicky’s figuring skating coach moved back to Russia after Junior Nationals. He’s spending half the summer at sleepaway camp anyhow. That’s where most of his friends are, and he has a job this year as a junior counselor. He doesn’t seem all too bothered to be transfering schools so Suzanne doesn’t push the subject.

Their new house is an upgrade from their last one. It’s spacious with more rooms than Suzanne could’ve ever hoped for. She dedicates the first two weeks there to unpacking the whole place. She doesn’t stop until everything has a place. Then she starts online shopping for new pieces of furniture and decorations to match the themes she’s going for in each room. They’ve never had the reason or budget to do serious decorating until now.

Suzanne stays at home, researching accounting jobs in town and in Atlanta. She gets distracted a bit with getting the new kitchen broken in, making sure that every pot and pan has been tested properly. The house is a big project, Suzanne thinks. There’s too much to fix and so little time to do it.

A month into living there, Richard says otherwise.

“You need to get out of this house,” he tells her.

She flinches, staring intently at her phone as she sips her morning coffee.

“Suzie,” he says. “Suzie, I mean it.”

“I heard you,” she says quietly.

“So? What are you going to do today?"

“I need to repaint your office—”

“I can do it myself,” Richard says. “What do you want to do today?”

Suzanne shrugs. “There’s a book I’ve been meaning to read—”

“Why don’t we go somewhere?” he offers.

“Judy’s working today, you know that,” Suzanne says.

Richard stuffs his hand in his mouth, screaming into it.

“Suzanne,” he says firmly. “When was the last time you left this house to go into town?”

Suzanne bites her lip, shaking her head. The cicadas are screaming outside. She wonders briefly if she could join them.

“What does that mean?” Richard demands.

“I don’t know! Never? There, I’ve never been in town, happy?” she snaps.

Richard’s face goes slack as his cheeks burn. “Why the fuck not?”

Normally, if Dicky were home or about to be home, they’d call a temporary truce on an argument like this. Unfortunately, Dicky won’t be home for another three weeks. So there’s nothing stopping them from screaming at each other.

“Because I don’t want to,” Suzanne shouts. “There’s nothing out there for me.”

“How do you know that? How could you possibly know that when you won’t step foot outside of this house?”

“Because it’s another town, just like the last one,” Suzanne says. “It’s filled with people who think they already have everyone figured out after a simple hello. There’s nothing but horrid old women who are out there ready to hate me.”

Richard crosses his arms. “Suzie, you can’t know that—”

“But I do, Richard,” Suzanne says. “I know what they said when my back was turned. With such a nice husband, how does she only have one baby? Why doesn’t she dress nicer? Why doesn’t she wear pearls on sunday? Hasn’t she ever worn a skirt in her life?”

“Why does any of that matter?”

“Because they’re right,” Suzanne says.

“Right about what?”

“Right that I’m a failure. I can’t do it, Richard. I’m not…” Suzanne chokes back tears.

“Not what?” Richard says, approaching Suzanne slowly.

She shakes her head as he tries to hug her.

Richard’s shoulder sag. “You’re not a failure, sweetpea.”

“You don’t know that,” Suzanne insists.

“Of course I do,” he says. “I know everything about you.”

Suzanne feels tears welling up. “No you don’t.”

“Okay,” he says. “Talk to me, sweetpea. What’s wrong?”

Suzanne thinks there should be a better answer. That after all these years, something else should have come up. That anything in the world might be easier to say than this.

“I’m a failure as a woman...because I’m not one. I’m a man, Richard.”

Richard hugs him tightly as he sobs, kissing his temple softly. He thought it would be easier than this. He thought knowing would make everything better. It’s not that easy, he realizes.

Knowing is only half the battle.

**Author's Note:**

> fic title - lyrics from Red Eye by Vance Joy
> 
> *alternative title: The five times Steven Bittle didn't know what to say, and the one time he did.  
> I decided Eric Bittle needs two dads, so more on this to come


End file.
